


From Here to Mars

by Silence_Song



Category: Aldnoah.Zero (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-18
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-02-16 09:17:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,887
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13051065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silence_Song/pseuds/Silence_Song
Summary: There are a million ways for the world to end. Some say in fire, some say in ice. For Slaine Troyard, the world ends the day he realizes he's fighting on the wrong side of the war. For Inaho Kaizuka, the world ends the day he realizes he'd do anything for a ghost from his past. They were friends and the world tore them apart, they're slowly realizing they'd rather die than let it tear them apart again.





	1. Prologue

_You can taste blood in your mouth, you can’t tell if it’s from one of your other wounds or if it’s bled down from your head. It doesn’t matter. None of it matters. You cough up another clot; you can feel your life leaving you with every painful beat of your heart. A whimper claws its way out of your throat, a hand falling across your gut, trying to keep it inside you._

_You hear a voice calling you and your eyes struggle open, eyelids fluttering. He’s there, at your side, his arms around you, cradling you against his chest. There is something broken in his eyes, something you can see he’s trying desperately to push down as his hand presses down on top of yours._

_“Do you remember the rose bushes?”_

_A laugh falls weakly from your bloody lips. You nod, not trusting your voice as your eyes slip closed again. He says your name and you think he is pleading with you._

 

/ / /

 

Japan. Your father says this is the second time you’ve been to the city, but you don’t remember the first time. He laughs and the sound is nice, it brings a smile to your face, one that only grows when he ruffles your hair. He tells you that it’s okay you don’t remember and you fit your small hand into his as the two of you disembark into the streets. Above you, in the early morning, you can see the fractured bits of the moon, suspended in space. Heaven’s Fall, the name brings shivers and you clutch a little tighter.

“Father,” you say, softly. “Tell me again, about Heaven’s Fall.”

“You have heard this story at least ten times now, Slai,” says your father, and he gives you a look. A single brow is raised, a frown pulling down his lips. His eyes flicker away from you, to the city as he walks. You stay quiet and finally there is a sigh and he begins: “You know about the moon, the Hyper Gate malfunctioned-”

“Destroying it,” you murmur back, tilting up your head again to catch a glimpse of those broken pieces.

Your father nods and tells you as the two of you walk how the Earth suffered major destruction from that act. Earthquakes, tsunamis, everything _bad._ You breathe deeply, in awe over how important the moon is to the Earth. So much about Earth brings you awe even though you know your father waters down much of the science for your young brain. “The Martians are up there?” you ask, tugging at your father’s hand when the two of you pause at a crosswalk. “Right now?”

Doctor Troyard glances up from his watch to the light then down at you. “Yes, Slaine.”

“Do you think there will be another war?”

He doesn’t answer right away, walking with you across the street. “I don’t know.” You can see, in his eyes, that he is thinking of the war. He is thinking of Aldnoah, a concept you’re still struggling a little to grasp. You just know that this science takes your father’s head and it makes him distant. You know you don’t like it. You want to go back to the park and eat messy sandwiches with him. War _terrifies_ you. Just the thought of it makes you hold tighter to your father’s fingers and this time he squeezes back and he gives you a semblance of a smile. You don’t want your father to go back to war, doesn’t want to see that far away look in his eyes as though this world means nothing and the one in his head is _everything_.

You look down at your feet as you walk, your father leading you deeper into the Japanese streets. There is tension in the air, there are whispers, all too aware of the shattered moon and the threat the Martians hold. You swallow down your questions and focus on the one that matters: “Where are we going, father?”

“To see an old friend,” replies your father, walking down another street. You nod and keep walking, straightening the bookbag on your shoulders. It’s wearing down on you and your legs are getting tired from the pace your father has set, but you say nothing. You walk with him and you keep quiet now. He has told you about Heaven’s Fall, how if you looked up at the sky you would see the explosion, a thousand million bits splitting off from that lunar guardian. He has told you that for days after, Earth suffered, that meteors rained down upon them, a sick reminder of Earth’s mortality. There are deep scores around the world, he has told you and you just want war to be over. You do not want to see this beautiful world torn apart more than it has already been.

Above you are the birds, you can hear them flapping and cawing and you can smile. You search them out in the gentle leaves of the trees. Yes, there are still trees. You were worried when your father told you the two of you were traveling to Japan. It was where the worst of the war was, but there are trees and there are birds and your smile stays until you come to the house where your father stops. It is modest, with rose bushes boarding the left side. It is there that your eyes go first, gasping softly at their beauty. “Father-” you start, tugging at his hand but he shakes his head and steps to the door, rapping upon it’s wooden surface.

You want to let go of his hand and go to the bushes, but you don’t. You stay at his side and cast your green and blue gaze to the door. The seconds tick by, your father is getting impatient. You see it in the shift of his shoulders, the way he glances at his watch. He raises his hand to knock again, face twisted into his impatience when the door opens and your father takes a step down as the man steps out onto the stoop.

“Why are you here Troyard?” he asks and his tone is iron, closing the door but not before you see a boy your age peering out from behind the corner, red eyes catching in the sunlight. You try to wave but the door closes.

“You know why,” replies your father, and you don’t see his glance towards you. You are studying the other man. He has dark brown hair, ruffled and unkempt, opposite to your father’s dusty blonde and your own nearly white locks. The other boy, the one in the house, had a similar hair color, or you suspect he did.

Both this man and your father have bags beneath their eyes. They look tired, they have seen the war and you wonder if the war won. You wonder if it was worth it.

He sighs, the dark haired man and rubs the bridge of his nose. “Come in,” he grunts out and opens the door. Your father ushers you inside. “Leave your shoes there,” the man nods towards the mat where two pairs of tennis shoes sit among large pairs.

The boy is gone.

As you’re pulling your shoes off, you see your father touch the other man’s wrist. “Thank you for this, Kaizuka. You don’t know how much this means.”

Kaizuka huffs and gives your father a slightly disgruntled look. “How long will you be gone?”

Gone?! You pause in your movements, left shoe half off. Your eyes go wide, staring at your father. What does he mean? Why are you here? You stand up, almost stumbling in your uneven footing, tugging at your father’s sleeve. He doesn’t answer you, just waves you off and you sit next to the shoes as your father follows Kaizuka into the other room.

“Not long. A month, maybe two. Just long enough to get my affairs in order. Then I’ll be back for-” His voice fades off as the distance increases. He’s also lowered his voice. You can’t hear Kaizuka’s reply, but you sit there for a moment, feeling a hole of anxiety opening beneath you as you pull off your remaining shoe. You set them beside your father’s and slowly enter the house.

The boy is back.

He stands on the staircase, one hand twisted around the railing and eyes staring straight into you. It makes you uncomfortable, his stare and you shift from foot to foot, anstey and ready to leave. “Hello,” you say instead, slowly easing towards him. “My name is Slaine Troyard.”

“You liked the rose bushes,” says the boy instead of giving you a name, his head tilting to the side.

You blink at him, dropping the hand you started to hold out to him. He hadn’t even looked at it. “Oh- yes, I… have not seen them in a long time. We move around a lot.” That was also why you were not allowed to have pets, a fact that still saddens you. From time to time, you still try to argue that with a pet you would not be so lonely. This brings forth apologies from your father, but never does he give in to your pleas. You don’t stay anywhere nearly long enough to make friends, besides you are usually taught by someone hired by your father. There is no need for you to attend school, even if you yearn for it sometimes as you would watch the children from the kitchen window.

“Where did you live?”

“Norway,” you tell him, still not used to the way he looks at you. It’s as though he is searching your thoughts, analyzing every word that you say.

He nods and steps down the last few steps. He walks past you and you realize with a jolt that he’s shorter than you. Not a terrible difference, but you are definitely a few inches taller. You don’t know why it amuses you, but it brings a faint smile to your face as you turn to follow him with your eyes. “What’s your name?” you ask of him as he sits down at one of the seats at the kitchen counter. He doesn’t answer, just tilts his head as the stairs creak and a girl wanders down them, yawning into her hand.

“G’morning Nao- oh! Who is this?” she blinks, pausing in the same spot her brother had been standing moments before, looking at you.

“Good morning, Yuki,” replies the boy, not even looking over. “This is Doctor Troyard’s son. His name is-”

“Slaine Troyard,” you interrupt, glancing to the girl and offering up your best smile. “My name is Slaine Troyard."

“Oh- _shit_ ,” says Yuki, staring down at her pajamas then back at “Nao”. “Why didn’t you wake me sooner!?” she cries, gesturing at herself.

Nao blinks at her, finally tuning his head to take in her appearance. “Watch your language, Yuki.”

“You're insufferable!” she cries out and vanishes back up the stairs, leaving you and Nao alone again.

“Kaizuka Inaho,” he says suddenly and when you look at him, you think he might be smiling, but he looks away before you can tell and his father and yours return into the kitchen. You hurry to him without a second word, falling in at his side and he pats your head gently, offering a quick smile.

“I see you’ve met Inaho,” says Kaizuka, ruffling the boy’s dark hair as he walks around to the fridge. “You are staying for dinner, no?” he says, turning to your father.

Your father wars with himself, you see it plain on his face and again you are afraid. What does this all mean. “Father, what’s going on?” As soon as the words are out, you hear Kaizuka groan by the fridge.

“You mean you haven’t told him?"

Your father glares and leads you into the other room, crouching before you and squeezing your shoulders. “I need you to be strong for me, alright, Slai?” He smiles that smile you don’t get to see much anymore and your bottom lip trembles. This causing him to sigh and bring you forward, wrapping you in a tight hug. “I’m being sent to Mars, Slaine. I’m going to be gone for a month, so you’re going to stay with Hanae and his family, alright?”

You cling to him, your little arms around his neck and your fingers clinging into the fabric of his shirt. “Why do you have to go?” you tremble out, your words watery with barely contained sobs. You don’t want your father to go! And to Mars? Why is he going there? Why couldn’t Slaine come with him? “Why can’t I come with you?”

He leans back and puts his hands on your face. “Don’t cry,” he tells you and you think his eyes are a little misty. “I just need to get settled first and then I’ll come back, okay? The UFE needs me to research Aldnoah and I can’t do that without seeing it up close.”

You lean into his shoulder and squeeze your eyes shut, trying not to cry. “A month,” you say, reluctant, hesitant.

“A month,” he says back and when he smiles you try your best to smile back. He takes you out to lunch and shows you around Japan, he shows you Tanegashima where he saved a Martian’s life, a man he says is named Saazbaum. He tells you that you will meet him when you come to Mars and you hang onto his words. He bends down and hands you his pendant, he tells you that it is to help ward off evil spirits and you stare at it in wonder before laying it around your neck, feeling your heartbeat against it. You will keep it safe, you promise him that and he ruffles your hair.

You will miss that.

“Father,” you say as the light is fading. It is too soon, you do not want to let him go. He hm’s beside you. You are walking back towards the Kaizuka residence for the dinner Hanae has prepared. “Why is the sky blue?”

He laughs, a soft, short sound beside you. “Light refraction,” he says. You don’t question him, though there is a tone to his voice that you don’t understand. You store away the information you don’t know to be incorrect and you are just about silent as you and the Kaizukas eat dinner. When your father hugs you goodbye, you don’t cry. You don’t cry until Hanae leads you to your new room and shuts the door. You curl up in the bed - it is cold and it smells unfamiliar - and that is when you cry, your hand tangled through the chain of your father’s pendent.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't have that many plans for this as of yet, but I do plan on this turning into a multichapter story. ^.^ This first chapter is written in second person but the rest will be in third person, that much I do know. Obviously, it's very alternate universe in which both of the boys' fathers are currently alive and knew each other. I wanted to experiment with Inaho and Slaine meeting as children and this was an easy way to do it. I hope everyone likes it so far, please let me know what you'd like to see out of it and I might incorporate some ideas!


	2. swear we'll never change

One:  _ swear we’ll never change _

 

The day after is empty. Sunlight filters in through the blinds of his new room. He doesn’t like it. He’s grateful but he doesn’t like it. There is no personal touch to it, it’s empty and barren and the lights from the outside kept him awake. That and the knowledge that when he woke his father would already be gone. It was the tears that finally tired him out, drew him into the beckoning arms of sleep. It was not long, however, before the nightmares pulled him out, an iron choking hold around his neck that jolted him forward with a soft cry. HIs hands flew up and covered his mouth even as his small shoulders quaked. 

 

The door opened and Inaho stepped in, silhouetted by the hall light. Slaine couldn’t see his eyes, but he figured they were glued upon his form. Unblinking. Unnerving. Unsympathetic. “You cried out,” said the disembodied voice and Slaine curled a little tighter into himself. 

 

“I apologize if I woke you,” he returned, glancing up as he heard the door click shut. It was darker in the room then, the soft sound of Inaho’s footfalls reaching him first, then the bed dipped. Slaine jerked his head towards the other, blinking to see him better in the half light. “I- Inaho?” 

 

“What did you dream about?” 

 

Slaine’s mouth worked for a few seconds before bowing his head and closing his eyes. “He died,” he whispered, feeling the tide of emotion rising once again. Inaho is silent and Slaine picks at a thread of his clothes. “He didn’t come back, instead he died.” He choked, burying his face in his hands. He didn’t want to see the frown stitching itself across the other boy’s face. 

 

The silence stretched. Then, “That won’t happen.” 

 

Head coming back up in surprise, Slaine stared at him, wondering for a moment if he was being mocked. Nothing in the other’s expression betrayed anything and blinking, Slaine forced up a small smile. “Okay,” he tried. He was still worried, he and his father had always been together. Even if his father was usually buried in work, they’d still had each other and Slaine is terrified of losing that. He doesn’t remember his mother much, he just knows that when she left his father threw himself even deeper into his research and her hair was just as soft as her smile. 

 

Inaho left after that, got up and left. He is a ghost, Slaine is sure. How else is he so quiet? Before he left, Slaine thanked him softly and he thought he saw a flash of a smile on Inaho’s lips before the door shut and he was left to find the lull of sleep alone. He was comforted by that faint quirk of Inaho’s mouth and replayed it as he laid down again. 

 

It is still there, in his mind when he wakes to the emptiness. He smiles a little and eases up, going to the window to stare out into the rising sun and the way it reflects off the buildings, flickers through the trees and casts pretty shadows across the rose bushes. Pushing away from the window, he wanders to the door and opens it. It is silent and the house is silent. For a moment, he thinks maybe he should just shut the door and wait until he can hear Hanae moving around in the kitchen but instead he steps out of his room and into the hall. He pads down the stairs, heart pounding at the realization that one of them could squeak and wake the entire house. 

 

His foot is hovering over the fourth step from the bottom when he hears the voice from somewhere to his right. “That one creaks.” 

 

In his haste to avoid it, Slaine nearly trips down the remaining stairs. He gasps at the sudden voice, hurriedly stepping over it when the words reach him and grabbing the railing when he feels his socks slip a little on the wood. Crisis averted, his eyes whip to find the small form of Inaho Kaizuka on the couch, scrolling through something on a small tablet. “You’re awake,” says Slaine, a flicker of surprise in the softness of his tone; there is no answer from Inaho. Slaine thinks he is probably irritated at Slaine stating that very obvious fact. He gingerly hops down the rest of the stairs, feeling safer on the carpet before slowly joining the brunette on the couch. 

 

He hugs his knees close to his chest, watching Inaho play chess on his tablet. “I have never played chess,” says Slaine to strike up a conversation. He will be here for a month, maybe more, he only wants to make friends with the other two children in the house. He thinks, briefly, Yuki would be easier to get to know, but he likes the calm energy that radiates off Inaho even if his red eyed stare is a little unsettling. 

 

Inaho doesn’t spare him a glance. “Would you like me to teach you?” he asks. Beside him, Slaine nods eagerly and shifts a little closer. The brunette spends the rest of the morning explaining chess strategies, as if reading from a textbook behind his eyes. He is patient with Slaine’s question and pauses when needed. They hardly move when Hanae comes down, following an hour later by Yuki, who greets them but doesn’t get much of a response, as by that time Slaine is engaged in a losing match against Inaho. He does not want help from the brunette and struggles through the movements himself. Understanding the game isn’t his problem, he understands it fine as the concept is simple. It is Inaho. Inaho is so much better at the game than Slaine and it shows. In just that short period, Slaine knows. Inaho is more intelligent than any person he has met before, and he can only listen in awe as he explains the simple movement of a knight across a board. 

 

They play for what feels like an eternity. Slaine’s head hurts from frowning over the checked surface and the digital pawns. His triumphant “check!” is always short lived. Too soon Inaho’s own voice echoes back to him: “Checkmate.” There is no mockery as he clears the board, tilts his chin back to Slaine and asks, 

 

“Would you like a rematch?” 

 

Slaine vehemently agrees, ducking his head to start his turn. He thinks he will win this one and he gets close. He is starting to pick up on the strategy, starting to understand what Inaho sees when he looks at the board. The brunette must see all the possible actions and outcomes at once and he must anticipate what Slaine will do before Slaine even thinks it himself. Slaine learns to read the future, to attempt and understand the way the gears in Inaho’s brain turn. It is hard, he mauls over that expressionless line of the brunette’s mouth and asks himself:  _ what are you thinking?  _

 

Inaho is not an open book. Slaine has tried reading his father and he never had a hard time. His father is always tired, but always learning, always trying. Slaine understands the tilts to his brows, the quirks to his lips because they have lived so long at each other’s sides without anyone but each other. Or at least, Slaine likes to think he understands. Sometimes, he’s not so sure. He didn’t predict this, after all. So, he learns from it. He tries to focus on the words that are spoken to him and pick out the reasoning behind them, tries to think like Inaho. But he can’t do it. He slips back into his normal way of thinking and he is unable to read the expression of neutrality on Kaizuka Inaho’s face no matter how hard he tries. 

 

He stops trying. 

 

It becomes a routine, the chess games. Slaine wakes an hour or so after Inaho and joins him on the couch, skipping over the fourth stair to the bottom. He looks forward to waking up, looks forward to the morning and slowly the sadness eases up. He finds himself at the windows as the night is falling, looking up at the stars and wondering if his father is sharing this vision. Wanting to know what his father sees, he even goes so far as to ask Inaho if the Earth can be seen from Mars. Inaho informs him that “we cannot see Mars from Earth, therefore Earth cannot be seen from Mars.” It is disheartening to Slaine, but he keeps a cheery face about it and only thinks after it in the darkness of his room. Slaine wishes, for just a moment, that he could speak to his father. To tell him that he’s okay and that he is making friends with Inaho and Yuki, who likes to question him about all the places they’ve been. 

 

The white haired boy wishes for a lot of things. Wishing never got him very far before, so he doesn’t understand why he thinks it will now. But he wishes, on a muted sky where the stars can scarcely be seen over the lights of city. He misses the sky and he sees it in his dreams, sees the blinking red of Mars. He wakes with a small smile and pretends he can get used to life without his father even when he knows he can’t. 

 

It is now Wednesday and Slaine has been here for a week, slowly falling into the new rhythm. He finds his place among their family, though he spends most of his time with Inaho after the other boy’s classes. Yuki sometimes come to talk with them, but she spends most of her days in class or with her friends. As for Hanae, he accepts Slaine as if he’s been there for years, gives him chores to do beside Inaho, ruffles his hair when he goes past and laughs with him at dinner time. Slaine feels loved and though he tries his best not to, he finds himself wishing his father was this present. 

 

At breakfast, Hanae says that it’s time Slaine start accompanying Inaho to his classes. “Casimir didn’t have you in public school, but I think it would be good for you.” 

 

Slaine is terrified. Beside him, Inaho merely shrugs and accepts this while something akin to discomfort crosses over Yuki’s face. He wants to ask, but he doesn't think it would be polite so he stays quiet, swallowing down eggs that suddenly taste like cardboard and anxiety. When he dresses, he stares at his reflection in the mirror and wonders how he ended up here; in a house that isn’t his wearing clothes that aren’t his and getting ready to attend classes that aren’t his. He’s never been to a public class before, on top of it all, and in the pit of his stomach the nerves and bouncing out of control. His hands feel jittery and he can’t seem to catch his breath. He’s afraid he won’t fit in, he’s afraid of so much that he knows is irrational to be scared of but he doesn’t know how to stop it. 

 

He just tries to breathe as he follows Inaho out of the house. Hanae pats his head and closes the door and Yuki sets off before them, babbling out a string of words that hardly enter Slaine’s thoughts. Until- A small hand brushes up against his own, eases his fingers apart and fits like a long lost puzzle piece. Cyan eyes flicker over to the brunette beside him. Inaho isn’t looking at him, staring straight ahead, sometimes glancing towards Yuki and saying something in reply. There is nothing on his face that suggests he even knows what he’s done, but then his fingers squeeze Slaine’s once and let go.

 

It gives Slaine the strength he was lacking and it’s easier to breathe as they reach the bus stop five minutes before the large white vehicle rolls up, puffing exhaust into the dusky morning air. “Ay, Inaho, Yuki!” call voices from the back few seats, smiling faces and raised hands meeting the trio as they board. 

 

“Good morning,” says Inaho, raising a single hand and going all the way to the back of the bus, sliding into the last seat with two other boys. Slaine trails after him and eases into the last available seat while Yuki takes up a spot with the girls. 

 

“Who’s this?” crows the blonde haired boy, looking over Inaho to where Slaine is looking out the window. The white haired boy tenses slightly glances over and offers a weak smile. 

 

He holds out his hand. “My name is Slaine Troyard.” 

 

“He is staying with us while his father visits Mars,” adds Inaho, as the blonde takes Slaine’s hand. 

 

“Calm Craftman!” he grins, leans forward, across Inaho. “What’s it like? Living with  _ Inaho _ ?” He says it like it’s not something he’d want to do. Inaho doesn’t react even as Slaine blinks in confusion. 

 

“There’s nothing wrong with it,” he says but cannot stop his voice from rising into a question at the end, unsure if that’s the answer the other boy was looking for or not. It makes him laugh, bumping his shoulder into Inaho’s. 

 

“Nothing wrong with it, eh?” he grins, white teeth flashing in the sunlight. 

 

The other girl, blonde as well but not the same kind of blonde as Calm, sits up in her seat to look at Slaine. “Where are you and your father from, Slaine? Calm and I aren’t from here either.” She smiles a shy smile and Slaine likes her instantly. 

 

He feels bad he cannot give her a straight answer and shrugs his small shoulders. “I have been many places,” he admitted. “Most recently my father and I lived in Norway.” He cannot pronounce exactly where they lived and he remembers his many attempts that left his father in quiet chuckles. 

 

Her eyes grow a little bigger. “Norway?” she questions, and leans over the seat as if to ask him more when the boy, who was previous lost in his video game looks up with pinched brows. 

 

“Your name doesn’t  _ sound  _ Norwegian,” he quips. 

 

“Come off it, Okojo,” grumbles Calm. 

 

Slaine smiles gently. “It is no trouble,” he says. “I was not born in Norway, only lived there.” 

 

He hears the blonde girl whisper something to the brunette and Yuki, both laugh. A seat away, Calm sinks into his seat, pulling a face. “Girls have cooties anyways,” he mutters and Okojo laughs. Inaho remains unphased by any of it, even as Slaine’s head begins to pound through the rest of the introductions. The nice blonde girl is Nina and her friend is Inko, they wave politely at him and rain down a range of questions, asking what Norway was like, only stopping when Calm shoos them away and suggests they let Slaine  _ breathe _ . 

 

Slaine is very grateful for it, and mainly sits quietly as they fall into their own discussions. They are close and he wonders how long they’ve all known each other, making a point to ask Inaho once they’ve gotten home for the day. For now, he sits and he listens. He isn’t used to this unity between people, all too used to the distance between he and his father. He likes it, there’s something warm in the air every time they make each other laugh and he holds it close to his chest. 

 

It evaporates when they drive up to the school building. “See you two later!” calls Calm as he races off, Okojo and Nina on his heels while Inko and Yuki head another direction. It leaves Inaho and Slaine alone in a sea of unfamiliar faces. That’s when the stares start. First they sneer at Inaho and then linger on Slaine, brows arching and whispered words following him down the hall. 

 

“Hey, freak!” calls one and Slaine feels himself go  _ numb.  _ He stares at the kid and then at Inaho, who hasn’t made any indication that he even heard. Except- Slaine sees the way his face creases with his frown and the way his eyes flicker. The words have hurt him, in some subtle and deep way that Slaine can not understand because he knows his offense openly shows. When they have passed, he stops Inaho with a hand on his forearm. 

 

“Why?” he asks. 

 

Inaho’s head tilts. “I’m more intelligent than they are. They think it’s unnatural.” 

 

Shaking his head, Slaine frowns. “Does this happen often?” he asks and Inaho’s faint shrug is all he needs as an answer and his fists clench. “I won’t let them continue,” he says with conviction and Inaho’s stare is filled with quiet acceptance. 

 

“What are you going to do?” 

 

Slaine opens his mouth, fiery with hatred before closing it and blinking. “I don’t… I don’t know,” he admits and it hurts. He wishes that he could do something to help, that he could go back and  _ say something  _ but he knows there’s no way he could stand a chance against them. The boy who had spoken was easily several years above him, probably someone in Yuki’s class. Still, Slaine wants to do something, he hates feeling helpless and yet that is how he feels as Inaho walks down the hall towards the line of classrooms. He watches him go, world dropping out from beneath him. Glances once over his shoulder, down the hall and the thinning crowd before he sighs and follows Inaho. 

 

There’s nothing he can do, Inaho is right. 

 

/ / /

 

The comments continue in the hallways when Inaho’s friends are not around. They do not seem to mind Slaine trailing behind Inaho like a lost puppy, they do not look at him with their beady eyes. Those are only for Inaho, who does not flinch no matter how many arrows are fired. Slaine fears he is more deeply wounded than Inaho until he sees the brunette’s fingers curling, twitching as they walk on. Then he knows, understands that Inaho hides what he feels because he  _ cannot  _ feel it, cannot allow them to see that the words make impact, that they burn as they settle. 

 

It sparks the fire of Slaine’s anger and it smolders in his stomach, filling him up. It builds as a snarl, and Inaho’s maroon eyes flicker over. Surprise is evident in the part of his lips as Slaine swings a small fist. He is surprised in himself. He is not an inherently violent person, and yet the daggers thrown Inaho’s way ignite something he doesn't like within him. It scares him, the way he is so ready to spring into battle for the brunette but at the same time, in the moment, he does not believe he will apologize for any bruises he causes. 

 

Stars dance across his vision as a much bigger fist connects first with his stomach and then with the side of his temple. He goes down, crumples to a heap and whimpers at the blood that trickles from his lips. He has bitten his tongue and his mouth is filled with a metallic tang. He can hear someone speaking, iron in their tones and anger bubbling beneath their words. He feels a presence beside him and unfocused eyes flicker to the brunette. 

 

“That was stupid, Slaine Troyard.”

 

He wants to cry. Instead, he only leans into Inaho as the world dances and tilts. Inaho’s presence is calming and it washes over him. He holds to it like a blanket. 

 

Hanae is furious. It's a quiet fury, evident in the the set of his lips and the way his knuckles whiten as he clutches the leather steering wheel. “I'm disappointed in both of you,” he says as Yuki worries over Slaine, her hands cupping his tear stained cheeks. Inaho sits beside the both of them, a silent force. 

 

“They were picking on Inaho,” says Slaine in a voice that breaks. Beside him, Inaho tenses and Hanae’s eyes jump to the mirror, meets on Inaho’s form and the frown deepens. 

 

Yuki nods. “It's been going on for a while,  _ Otōsan _ _ … _ ” she says, also glancing towards Inaho. 

 

“There was no reason to resort to violence,” says Inaho. “Even though, I have contemplated breaking their arm.” His voice is matter-a-fact, almost thoughtful. Hanae sighs a heavy sigh and turns into their driveway. He shuts off the car, breathes deeply as he takes the keys back from the ignition and turns in his seat to survey the trio in the backseat. Only one of them is looking anywhere but his face, while the other two meet his eyes; one worried, the other thoughtful and blank. Rubbing a hand down his face, Hanae got out of the car without a word and Slaine followed Yuki out the open door, walking with her and Hanae towards the house with Inaho trailing behind them. 

 

Hanae decides that Slaine should stay home for a while and while Inaho suggests otherwise to Slaine in private, Slaine doesn’t want to walk those halls again so soon. He’s haunted by the feeling of his fist colliding with the culprit’s jawline and is left wondering what happened to him, what came over him in that moment other than the white hot flash of anger. 

 

He watches Inaho leave in the morning and spends his days helping Hanae around the house. Cleaning where is needed and learning to cook when requested of him. Inaho has said that Hanae taught both him and Yuki to cook (but Inaho has made it very clear that he is the only one that paid attention to those lessons). The days pass much slower than they did before, but Slaine survives. 

 

After a week, they all think Slaine is fit to return to the school setting and with reluctance he goes. However, he and Inaho are too late and don’t quite make the bus. Walking through the morning sunlight is calming, sending waves of comfort through his body. He focuses on it and the presence of Inaho at his side. “Do you think I should be going back?” he asks as he scoffs his shoe against the sidewalk before crossing.    
  
“Why not?” asks Inaho, barely looking up from his tablet. 

 

Slaine frowns, fiddles with his small, pale hands. “What if I hurt them again?” 

 

Now, Inaho looks at him. He is a mask of emotionlessness and if it were anyone else, Slaine would be scared, terrified even. But this is Inaho and this look is only one of the many that Slaine has received or seen others receive. He does not fear his friend, could never fear his best friend. 

 

“You won’t.” 

 

It is spoken with such sincerity that Slaine almost pauses, ends up tripping over his feet before hurrying to keep up, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “How do you know for sure?” asks Slaine, surprised and unsure how Inaho has so much faith in him. 

 

“You’re my friend,” says Inaho simply, burgundy gaze ahead of them. 

 

When Slaine smiles this time, it stays with him for the thirty minutes it takes them to get to school. They arrive late and receive a thorough berating from their  _ sensei _ and pointed laughter from Inaho’s friends. 

 

It’s within their last portion of the day that fate wraps them tighter to each other. Slaine’s fingers are white around his pencil, the characters sloppy on his notebook as he writes. He has been on high alert all day, all too sure that the bullies will jump him and reprimand him for what he’d done last time. They don’t. They watch him from afar and he thinks that someday soon, when they are sure he is alone, they will kill him. He doesn’t mention this to Inaho, knowing that the brunette would think he was overreacting but- 

 

A shadow passes over his head. He jerks upwards, eyes flickering towards the ceiling and he startles. A girl on the other side of the classroom screams. Instantly, it erupts into chaos, while at his side, Inaho calmly regards the creature. 

 

“It’s a bat,” he says. Deadpan. Collected. 

 

Slaine cowers as it flutters, obviously frightening by the noise. “How did it get in here?” He hears Calm ask, textbook in hand. Slaine doesn’t like it either, but he doesn’t like the way in which the blonde’s fingers tighten on the book when the bat flies too near to him. 

 

“Stop!” he cries, going forward to tug the book away from Calm. “Don’t hit it!” 

 

Even Inaho looks amused as Calm shrieks when the bat dive bombs him. A very small part of Slaine wishes he had let the other blonde keep the book as his fingers tighten around it and he cowers as it flies past him, right out the door which was opened by Inko, who screams. Calm laughs and instantly they are back to normal, the blonde talking loudly over Nina who was animatedly telling Inko how Calm “screamed like a girl.” 

 

“Did not!” 

 

“He did too! Tell her, Inaho!” 

 

“Your voice was higher than normal, Calm.” 

 

“Ah, bite me!” 

 

From his seat in front of Slaine, Okojo laughs and Calm fires a crumpled bit of paper at him. They are ushered out early, obviously much too roudy to continue the lesson. Slaine sticks close to Inaho and his friends as they walk through the streets of Tokyo, talking loudly and animatedly. Slaine stays mostly quiet, but listens with a gentle smile on his face. Soon, it is only he and Inaho wandering back to Inaho’s home. 

 

It is then, that Inaho says: “Did you have a good day, Bat?” 

 

Slaine sputters, glancing at him in surprise. “ _ Bat? _ ” he squeaks. 

 

There is a hint of a smile on the other’s lips. “You remind me of it.” 

 

“How so?!” Slaine’s voice is indignant. 

 

“You were scared too.” 

 

Slaine doesn’t have an argument and he blurts out, “You didn’t like it much either,  _ Orange _ !” 

 

Inaho blinks. “Orange?”    
  


Slaine’s cheeks redden, suddenly regretting speaking. “Your backpack is orange,” he mumbles. “It’s not any worse than  _ Bat _ !” 

 

Inaho says nothing, simply shrugs and smiles that small smile of his. He does not, however, drop the nickname. After dinner, he asks “Bat” to pass him a tea cup and Slaine glares at him (“Of course,  _ Orange _ .”). The next morning, he uses it as they play chess and soon ‘Orange’ becomes a substitute for Inaho. It’s not so much spat out, it’s simply spoken, a gentle smile accompanying it. 

 

He becomes “Bat” and life is good. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took a lot longer to get out than I meant it to! I'm terribly sorry but I got caught up in other things and just haven't had a chance to work on it as much as I wanted to. I had a lot to say here, but I've forgotten most of it so just take my sincerest apologies and know that writing Inaho's friends stresses me out and I'm aware they're all probably acting way too old for their ages. ;; 
> 
> (This is unedited, forgive me. I will be making corrections as I reread, just wanted to get it out.)


End file.
